Lost and Found and Lost Again
by Benedict Davison
Summary: WARNING: Contains pedophilia, strong language, and some scenes may be descriptive.   Also if you do not approve of homosexuality, please leave.   A fiction based off the movie "Happiness"  1998
1. Prologue

"I'm done with your shit!"

The sound of a large hand hitting the counter top.

"You can't keep running off with your friends while I have to stay here and babysit the _mistake_!"

A glass is thrown across the room and smashes to pieces against the wall, some of the smaller shards dance on the air like fairy dust, catching the light just before dropping onto my hair. This is common in my household, however not ever has it been this bad.

A gun.

A shot.

A thump.

A body lying limp on the floor.

A scream is heard and I'm not quite sure if it is coming from me or not, it must be though, there is no one else who would scream for the loss of my mother. I feel a hand covering my mouth and dragging me down the hall and into my room. I'm not aware of the fact that my father is digging his nails into my cheek, I'm still not aware when blood is filling my mouth after I have been thrown against the wall.

"This is your entire fault. I knew you were a god awful mistake from the start," My father says, looking down on me. My expression does not change and as he leaves he shouts over his shoulder. "God awful mistake!" I hear the bolt slide into place and I swallow the blood, but I don't know its blood until it's too late. I don't bother to turn on the light or do anything for that matter. All I do is sit and breathe and stare into nothingness. I feel numb. Nothing matters anymore, I've lost everything.

I was seven years old when my mother died right in front of my face… And I did nothing to save her.


	2. Chapter 1: Lance

Chapter 1:

It had been two years since I saw my mom die by my father's hand, and I haven't told a soul, even though I think I should. When I started 4th grade this year, I started making friends who would invite me to stay with them at their house. That's when I noticed that things were different with other kid's parents than with my dad. When I invited my friends to my house, my dad would yell and call me 'the mistake' like normal, and I lost a lot of friends because my dad scared them all away. I felt bad. I felt lonely.

But then I met Lance. Lance had pretty brown hair and really nice, fair skin that was stretched beautifully over his thin body. He talked to me first too, which was nice because usually I was the one who had to go out of my way to make friends. Lance asked me if he could borrow my colored pencils and I told him yes, we just sort of hit it off after that I guess. Then he asked the question that was bound to be asked:

"So do you wanna come over and play sometime?" He asked, smiling. It wasn't so much that he invited _me_ over to _his_ house, so much as it was the fact I would have to, in turn, invite _him_ to _my_ house. I simply nodded yes. We set a date for that Friday, which was the day after.

When I got home to tell my father, he seemed oddly pleased that I had made another friend. Huh, curious. I smiled in spite of myself because I relished the idea that my father was starting to become like other kids' dads. He gave me the permission I needed to ride the bus home with Lance, and he even called Lance's house and talked with his mom to see if Lance wanted to stay the night with us right after our play date. I was in total shock, but I didn't question my dad's behavior, I just went with it because I liked it.

And then it was Friday and I was on the bus sitting next to Lance. He was really quiet on the ride to his house save the fact he would glance over and giggle at me every so often. I remember blushing whenever he did that, and then blushing some more for blushing in the first place. I was really sensitive back then. When we got to his house, his mom was waiting in the doorway, but I hadn't noticed that until I stopped gawking. I was gawking because Lance didn't just live in any old house, but rather a mansion.

The mansion was three stories high (excluding the basement and attic) and went on for what seemed like miles. It was made of red brick and had an ornate Victorian look about it. I had never seen such a pretty house in my life, way better than my house. Don't get me wrong I loved my house, it was two stories and just right, but oh man, Lance's house was fantastic!

We rushed up to his mom who had shoulder-length curly, blonde hair and the same complexion and bone structure as her son. Lance wrapped his arms around her waist and looked up at her face, laughing, she was laughing too. I had never seen such a wonderful sight and I instantly started crying at the happiness exchanged between the two. My crying didn't go unnoticed by the them and before I knew it they were surrounding me with their loving arms and Lance was kissing me on the cheek, which in normal circumstances I would have thought was weird.

"Baby what's wrong?" Lance's mom was cooing over and over and sometimes she would whisper things like "it's okay." And "everything is alright." Her doing that reminded me of my mom and how she used to do that, and so her reassuring words had the opposite impact and I was crying harder than before.

I cried for an hour.

Lance's mom, who by now I found out wanted to be called Ms. Olive, made me some warm milk and cookies. She didn't just pull some chips ahoy out or anything like that, she actually baked the cookies with me sitting at the counter, watching and hiccuping all the while. When she stuck them in the oven and set the timer for 15 minutes, she leaned over the counter and asked me questions about my family and home life.

"What about your mom sweetie? Tell me about her." I froze, but proceeded on to describe her the best my little mind could. When I was finished Ms. Olive's eyes looked sad, she stopped asking questions after that. You might be wondering where Lance was during this time, well, he was up in his room, packing his bags and getting ready to stay the night at my place, I was real nervous about that.

There was an awkward silence that filled the air after my description of my mother that pushed down on my shoulders and made me want to cry out in agony. This lack of comfort went on for a few more moments until finally Lance came trotting down the stairs with his suitcase and backpack. I wasn't sure how much of that he would need, but I didn't say anything lest I would be considered rude.

"Hey Seamus, buddy, you alright?" Lance called from the front door, where he was placing his belongings. I pushed myself off the stool I was sitting on and walked over to him, nodding.

"Y-yeah I'm alright, I dunno what happened, I just got really sad all of a sudden." I grumbled, looking down at my shoes. They weren't as pretty as Lance's and that made me sadder than I had been before. Lance had been watching my face closely because before I knew it he had his arms around me for the second time that day. It was obvious this was a family of huggers, but I didn't mind in the least.

When he pulled away he smiled at me and I smirked in return, then his mom called to us with the promise of cookies and we were in the kitchen in the blink of an eye.

"Id yourf dad nife?" Lance asked in between mouthfuls of chocolate chip cookie. I didn't know what to say to that, and not because I didn't understand what he was asking, but because my dad seemed to be changing but I wasn't sure so I just nodded to save myself from over thinking things and worrying him again. He seemed content with my answer and looked at his half eaten cookie remotely. Lance had a funny way of making his eyes look as though his mind were on a whole other plane of the universe. I waved my hand in front of his face frantically and he jumped and laughed.

"You're cute!" Lance said smiling wide. I looked at Ms. Olive for help because I had never been called cute before, she just smiled and nodded her head. I blushed and fiddled with my fingers.

"Thanks." I said dully, not knowing what else to say to that, I felt sad again. I tried my hardest not to let it show like I had before. I figured since I wasn't consumed by hugs that the fell for it, which I was thankful for because I didn't know how much more hugging I could take. At that time my dad was at the door, ringing the doorbell.

"Oh that must be your father!" Ms. Olive said, smiling and walking briskly to the door. She opened it to my smiling father. This was such an unusual sight, my dad never smiled and I mean _never_. He glanced over Ms. Olive's head to see me and Lance, when he caught sight of us he looked back at Ms. Olive and let out a raspy "Wow." Ms. Olive blushed and laughed, turning to us and waving us over.

"Well, Lance was very excited for this night it's all I heard out of him at dinnertime." She said, kneeling down and kissing Lance on the forehead. "Now you be good, don't forget your manners, and if you need anything, call me." Lance nodded. She looked back up at my dad. "He doesn't have any allergies and he should be tolerable, gimme a call if things get out of hand." She said, handing my dad Lance's luggage. This whole scenario was weird and I didn't like it. There was something in the way my dad looked at Lance, because he _was_ looking at him, I was the only one to notice though.

My dad carried Lance's bags out to the car and loaded it up while him and I got in the backseat. My dad waved one last time to Ms. Olive and we were off. It was quiet the first 5 minutes of the ride until my dad started asking Lance questions. He never did that with any of my other friends before.

"So Lance, how old are you?"

"Seamus's age sir, nine."

"Ah, I see. How do you like school?" The questions went on like that for the whole ride and I felt uncomfortable the way my dad laughed when nothing was funny and the way he kept looking back at Lance from the rear view mirror with smiling eyes. I looked out the window for the most part.

Once at home, my dad carried Lance's things to my room and left us alone together.

"Your dad seems really nice." Lance said, sitting atop my bed, his legs swinging back and forth. I just nodded as I picked up a few pieces of drawing paper and books that were left on the floor from the previous night. "What's that there?" Lance asked, reaching for the drawing papers. I handed him the lot and he looked through them with a fascinated expression.

"These are really good Seamus! I mean, really good, you could be famous one day!" He said, looking up from the papers at me. I just smiled and nodded again, I never knew how to react to compliments seeing as I rarely got them. "You don't talk much do you?" He asked, placing the papers beside him. I walked over to the bed to gather them back up and placed them on my desk.

"No, I like listening a whole lot better." I said, looking at my not pretty shoes again. Seamus smiled and stared at me until I looked back up at him. I sat beside him on the bed and he placed his small hand on my shoulder.

"You're an interesting kid, you know that?" He asked, still smiling. Again I found myself at a loss for words and I just stared at him blankly, which he didn't seem to mind. I liked that he didn't seem to mind a lot of what I did. My dad knocked and opened the door then.

"Do you boys want something to eat? I've made chicken for dinner, if that's okay with you Lance?" Lance nodded.

"I love chicken." He said beaming. My dad glanced at me and waved us over before leaving. Lance and I leaped off the bed and walked downstairs to the kitchen, where my dad was already seated at the table.


End file.
